Wins and Losses
by Bree Colbern
Summary: In war, there are always wins and losses. Infinity War: The Endgame fic.


**Wow...um. Two years. It's...been a while, lol. And I am so sorry that this is the first story I post XD It's a tearjerker, but there are no spoilers even if you haven't even seen the first one, which if you haven't, *gasps* you must! I cried. Like, a lot.**

 **So, hey! It's been so long! Hit me up and tell me all about all that's been going on :D I love hearing from y'all. In the meantime, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own this. Otherwise everyone would live happily ever after.**

* * *

They had won.

So how-

How did it turn into _this?_

Tony couldn't help but wonder. God, his luck could be so wonderful and so terrible at the flip of a nickel.

They had defeated Thanos.

 _Thank God_.

The world was back to normal. Though, it would never truly be normal after _half the damn planet was wiped from existence._ And yes, there were some losses. But he tried not to focus on that.

In the heat of the battle, he used it to fuel him.

After all, they were called the Avengers.

The group of misfits, of disappointments and failures, of lab rats and ones with no powers but sheer will, had defeated their greatest foe to date. _And hopefully will never have to face one greater._

They'd done it.

And the only thing Tony felt after the heat of the battle, heaving deep, rattling breaths as he stumbled along some ruined street in downtown San Francisco, was _relief_. And gratitude. But mostly relief.

It was over.

So why did he have a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach?

 _His teammates weren't here._

They were unaccounted for. And with a shaking hand, he pressed a button on the side of his half-gone helmet, hoping to any benevolent being out there that it would work.

"Did anyone survive that?" He asked, light-heartedly, even though his heart felt like a brick in the pit of his stomach. A few fuzzy voices came through that he recognized to be Strange's, Clint's, and that weird Peter fella' that worked with the Protectors.

Or whatever they were called.

A few more weary voices made it through, but his heart twisted when he knew some were missing.

Peter, Parker that is, was currently in the med bay on a quinjet somewhere on the east coast after a run in with one of Thanos's minions. So he wouldn't answer.

Natasha was another one that hadn't answered.

And never would.

And neither would Wanda.

Or Sam.

Tony swallowed past the bile rising in his throat and continued his walk amongst the destruction.

Bruce hadn't answered and neither had Steve. Rogers, that is. God, having members on the team with the same names made everything so confusing.

 _Speak of the devil._

Tony thought as he noticed the limping man approaching him around some rubble.

"Banner, you made it," Tony laughed out, sheer relief layering his words. He moved closer, but the smile on his lips faltered at the grim look on the man before him.

"Tony," He breathed, halting in his steps. "You need to come with me." He declared as he turned and walked back to where he came from. Tony frowned, nearly not wanting to follow his friend.

And when he made it around the crumbled building, he realized his gut feeling was right.

There lied Steve Rogers, almost as red and blue as the uniform he wore.

Rushing forward - _though if he were being honest, it was more of a stumble_ \- , he knelt down before his fallen teammate, passing his other friend in the process.

"What-what happened?" He choked out, hearing the labored, shaking breaths coming from the man lying in front of him. A wet cough escaped past Steve's lips as he just now acknowledged Tony's presence.

"Got on the, " Shaky inhale. "Wrong side of a," Groan. "Street lamp." Steve breathed out, and Tony looked down, just now noticing the shard of metal impaled in his side. And he contusions spreading out from under his ripped suit, and crawling up his neck.

Tony ripped off his helmet and spun towards Bruce, who was just now catching up to him.

"You've got to be able to fix this. You're a doctor; _do something!_ " Tony yelled, and Bruce only looked at him mournfully, and if possible, his heart dropped even lower. _He can't lose any more friends, God, please._

"There's nothing we _can_ do, Tony," Bruce whispered regretfully, not taking his eyes off of Steve.

"There's gotta' be something. We have to try. Maybe we can get a quinjet, or-or maybe-" Tony sputtered out, and stopped abruptly at the weak grasp on his wrist suddenly. Looking down, his jaw tensed at the sight.

"Tony," He coughed weakly, and a trickle of blood rolled down the side of his chin from his lips and Tony closed his eyes at the sight.

 _This was so, so wrong._

 _This wasn't how it was supposed to go-_

"It's okay," Steve whispered, with those earnest blue eyes, the twinkle that once shone there, nearly vacated, nearly lifeless and it felt _so damn wrong_. "It'll be okay. You won. You did it," He exhaled shakily, a genuine smile spreading across his lips weakly. Bruce knelt down next to him, grasping his other hand.

" _We_ did it, Steve." He declared, and Steve grinned, and he looked so incredibly _boyish_ and _young_ and Tony could barely stand to even _look at him._

"Take care of Bucky, please," Steve choked out, and this time, Tony did look away; not wanting to hear the last dying wish of a friend.

 _Of_ _their friend_.

"And the young ones...they need you, Tony. They need all of you, to look out for them, to-" A weak, sputtering, _wet_ cough escaped past Steve's lips once more as he shut his eyes with a grimace. Retracting his hand from Tony's wrist and to his chest.

He already missed the warmth of it.

Once the coughing fit was over, Steve shakily inhaled, whispering, "It'll be alright,". And Tony couldn't _take it anymore._

"God _damn it, Steve_ ," He choked out, a sob catching in his chest, and from the corner of his vision he noticed the tears reflecting off of Bruce's cheeks as well. A feeble chuckle emerged from Steve's lips as he smirked.

"Language," Tony huffed out a breath, shaking his head with closed eyes. Opening them, he felt his heart constrict.

"Steve?" He questioned wearily. "Steve?" He choked out, falling back onto the ground, a hand shakily running through his hair. "No, no, no-" A sob broke off the rest as he looked at the lifeless corpse of his friend before him.

Tears blurred his vision as he suddenly threw his helmet with a yell, a loud clang echoing through out the otherwise quiet street.

He fell back to his knees, staring at his fellow teammates still, unmoving chest. He barely noticed Bruce closing Steve's eyelids, or the frozen smile still on the hero's lifeless face. Bruce lingered next to Steve a little longer.

"Tell Natasha I said, hi." He quietly whispered and Tony couldn't take it anymore. And so, he sobbed. He sobbed into his hands in the empty streets of San Francisco, next to the corpse of his friend.

They had won.

But God, how it felt they had lost.

* * *

 **Short but sad.**

 **So basically, I saw this thing where Chris Evans said that his last line in Infinity War: The Endgame was really stupid. And somebody said that what if he's dying and Tony curses because of it, and Steve's last word would be "language". And thus this was born. Also, I hate cursing in my fics but for the sake of the story, it had to be done. So, I apologize.**

 **Happy New Years, my loves! Stay awesome**


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